


Surprises

by BunniesAndBooks



Series: The Christmas Calendar [12]
Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2850707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunniesAndBooks/pseuds/BunniesAndBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 12. Kurt/Sebastian<br/>Prompt: They fuck on Seb's parents private plane. Joining the mile high club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprises

Surprises. The thing that millions of people all over the world adores and loves to experience.

But Kurt? He _hates_ them. It might be because of the clown his parents had surprised him with one his fifth birthday party that had scared him partially to death. It might be because of the daily surprises waiting for him just beyond the corner of every hallway in McKinley High School. No matter the reason however, Kurt has never been fond or even somewhat agreeable when it comes to surprises.

He can barely take not knowing what is hiding in his wrapped presents for Christmas for Christ sake.

Hence why he is majorly sulking in the front seat of his boyfriend's car, blindfold covering his eyes so impeccably that he can't even peek through the material – or under it for that matter. He'd tried getting the knot on the back of his head untied – several times even by now – but it had been to no avail. Not because of his boyfriend's complaining words, but because of the damned boy scout quality of the stupid things.

So – sulking.

Kurt's arms are crossed over his chest and he's facing away from his driving boyfriend, which he knows logically doesn't really make a difference in the end anyway because of the blindfold, but that he does on principle. He's pouting, angry that he can't know what's going on. Angry that he hasn't known what's been going on for the last _two hours_.

His boyfriend had just showed up at his door that morning, and after politely chatting with his father for a few minutes had dragged him out the door, tying that freaking cloth across his face.

If he found he had a red stripe over the top part of his face when this was finished he might end up killing somebody. Namely, said boyfriend who put the thing on him in the first place.

Kurt knew he was sort of a bitch at the moment, but to be honest his boyfriend had it coming. More than, actually. If there was one thing beyond his sexuality and interest in fashion that seemed to be common knowledge it was his vast detest for anything vaguely resembling a 'surprise'.

So his boyfriend of almost a year now certainly had it coming to him when Kurt had spent the entire car ride over to... wherever the hell they were going, grumbling and calling him every foul name in the book. Kurt wasn't even feeling a hint of remorse or guilt for it, he was only frustrated that he couldn't think of more horrid names to call him.

He _really_ hated surprises, okay?!

And things didn't get better when they stopped either, because apparently they 'weren't quite there yet babe, don't get your panties in a twist'. No, now he wasn't just in a terrible mood from being held in the dark for hours, no, now he was angry at his boyfriend for insinuating that he was a cranky girl as well.

Guess who wasn't getting laid ever again.

But Kurt let himself be led away by his boyfriend, because who knew what would happen if he didn't. It was already apparent he couldn't get the damn blindfold off by himself, and if he didn't fallow somewhat obediently at least he might fall, or worse, walk straight into a wall or something in front of who knew how many people.

“Are we really not there yet?” Kurt asked, annoyed after nearly tripping over yet another step on the staircase they were on that his boyfriend hadn't pointed out to him. “Where are you taking me? A strip club? You know I told you there was no friggin' way I was coming to you with one of those, and I _will_ maim you if you have.”

“Geez, Kurt, have a little faith will you?” his boyfriend said exasperatedly, obviously tired of his nagging, as they walked outside. “'Sides, we're almost halfway there now, if you think you can wait a few more hours.”

“A _few more hours_?!” Kurt shrieked, heedless of how many people there was surrounding them. “No, nuh-uh, I'm going home now. There's _no way_ I'm letting you kidnap me to your hidden sex-dungeon or whatever. Come on, take me home now.”

He could hear his boyfriend sigh deeply beside him before turning around and probably facing Kurt. At least the familiar breath against his face suggested so. “Okay, listen up Ice Queen, 'cause I'm only going to say it once. You have been a bitch for weeks now, moaning about how boring and tasteless everything Lima has to fucking offer is, so I thought I would be nice for Christmas and take you shopping somewhere else. I even fucking asked your _father_ if I could take you somewhere for the weekend, and he _agreed_ ,” his boyfriend hissed at him, clearly pissed off. Kurt began feeling guilty for how terribly he'd behaved, and was about to apologize sheepishly when his boyfriend continued. “I even agreed to book us separate rooms in the hotel we're staying, _promising_ Burt that I wouldn't even try and sneak into yours when we're there because I knew how freaking excited you would get once you would finally find out where we're going, and that it would be damned _worth it_. The destination which, by the way, I was going to tell you when we boarded the fucking _private jet_ I manage to beg my mother into letting us borrow, as well as the platinum card she isn't using. But you know what? Be the fucking Queen Bitch that you are, and go home if you fucking want to, okay? What do I care? I was only trying to give you the weekend of your dreams in freaking New York City, thinking you might like it. Instead you think I'm _kidnapping_ you. I give up, Kurt. You hate surprises, I get it, now go home and forget all about this, see if I care.” With his last words Sebastian ripped off the blindfold from his head and began to stalk his way back towards the car, sending Kurt into a flurry of panic.

God, he'd been such an ungrateful bitch, and for what? Nothing. His handsome boyfriend was absolutely amazing, planning all of this for him, and what did he do to say thank you? Granted he hadn't known about any of it until minutes ago, but had he really needed to be such a prissy ass about it?

Turning around and hurrying after the Dalton boy Kurt felt tears running down his cheeks, afraid he'd just lost the best boyfriend he'd ever had. It wasn't about the freaking money, or about what Sebastian could offer him with those paper bills. It was about how much he obviously cared for him, and about how much Kurt cared about him in return.

Flinging himself against his boyfriend's chest, clinging on to him as best as he could with all four of his limbs Kurt manically chanted out how sorry he was, how badly he felt, what a terrible boyfriend he was and could Sebastian ever forgive him for it.

“Just, ple-hease Bas, please forgive me,” Kurt hiccuped, sobbing into the lapel of his boyfriend's jacket, grasping the edges of it tightly with whitening knuckles. “I'm so sorry, I'm so, _so_ sorry. You're right, I am a bitch, a little whiny bitch who doesn't deserve you, not really, but please, don't leave me, _please_.”

“Shh, Kurtie,” Sebastian hushed into his hair, his arms reaching around him and tucking his racking body in closer to Sebastian's. “Shh, calm down Kurt. Just calm down, I'm not going anywhere.”

It took Kurt a long time to calm down his heaving sobs, scared as he was that he would be left there, alone, by the boy he loved so much. Afraid he had ruined everything. But when Sebastian didn't leave, didn't disappear, Kurt began to ever so slowly calm, his breathing gently evening out after so many minutes of panicked desperation.

“I'm sorry,” Kurt finally mumbled ashamedly into the crook of his boyfriend's neck and shoulder, burying himself there, trying to hide from how horrible he felt, how horrible he'd treated this boy.

“It's my fault too,” Sebastian said calmly in return, squeezing him closer softly. “I knew you were going to be a bitch about it, I _knew_ that, I'm not stupid or anything. But – and I will deny it if you ever mention it – I was kinda excited too. I was really nervous about how you would react when you'd find out, so I haven't sort of been able to sleep for a few days now, and I guess I got a little cranky myself.”

When Kurt looked up he could see Sebastian was blushing, something which the other boy hardly ever did, so Kurt knew how much his boyfriend meant what he'd said if he was so embarrassed about it. It made Kurt smile, and he kissed his wonderful boyfriend to silently tell him not to worry and that things were okay between them once more.

It wasn't either of their faults really when the – at first chaste – kiss began to deepen, their tongues delving together and exploring softly as their fingers began to tangle into the other one's already mushed up hair. It wasn't their fault that they got so lost in each other that they didn't broke apart until their pilot came and asked them if they still wanted to use the jet or if he should take it away from the airport and park it again.

No, none of that was their fault. But that didn't mean that either regretted it.

“So,” Sebastian asked a little breathlessly. “I don't suppose you still want to come with me now that things kind of went to hell?”

“Are you kidding me?!” Kurt shouted, slapping his boyfriend's shoulder lightly. “Of course I'm going. What are you? Nuts? Come on,” Kurt laughed, grabbing his boyfriend's bigger hand in his and giggled madly as he rushed towards the jet outside, Sebastian hot on his trail.

*

“Oh... Holy McQueen...” Kurt mumbled as he stepped into the plane and gazed around him, wondering how stupidly rich his boyfriend really was considering the extravagant decorating of the inside for the first time. Sure, he'd seen his boyfriend's home many a times by now, but one was _supposed_ to spend money on your home, not on the inside of your _private jet_. Hell, one wasn't really supposed to even _own_ a private jet. Not in Ohio anyway. In LA maybe.

“It's not that bad...” Sebastian snickered behind him.

“Oh, it is. I thought your parents were biologists, how the _hell_ can they afford something like this?” Kurt asked, his fingers hovering in amazement inches from the crystal chandelier hanging over one of the tables.

“To be fair only my mother is a biologist, my father is actually a lawyer hired by the company she works for, which is also how they met by the way. But they are both trust fund children with massive inheritances, so I guess they indulge on certain things. You know, like I sorta splurge on you.” Sebastian cheekily grinned, wrapping his arms around him from behind and pulled him back with him into one of the huge seats, so Kurt sat splayed on his lap.

“Hmm, you splurge on me?” Kurt teased with a smile, nipping gently at one of his boyfriend's earlobes. “I couldn't tell...”

“Mhmm,” Sebastian hummed pleasantly, cupping Kurt's ass through his jeans, to which Kurt mewled happily at in response. “I do, I really do. And I will prove it to you in New York. But... in order to get there we might have to separate and sit in a seat each, at least during take off. Sorry, plane rules,” Sebastian winked, pushing him over into the seat next to him.

Kurt huffed petulantly at being treated like a rag-doll, but when he'd straightened his clothes again and looked back to his boyfriend he could see him reaching out a tall glass filled with golden colored liquid.

“Champagne. The real deal, not the yucky stuff one can buy at the supermarket, here, try some,” Sebastian offered, and Kurt took it, sipping cautiously. He could still remember quite vividly what happened that time he'd drunk Chablis and thrown up all over the guidance counselor, and did not want a repeat of that. Especially not in front of Sebastian of all people.

Unlike that cheap stuff April had given him however, this proved to be absolutely delicious. Kurt wouldn't mind drinking bucket-fulls of this, but placed the glass away from him after just that one glass, careful not to end up drunk again.

When the plane starts rumbling to life beneath and around him however, Kurt wished he'd drunken a few more glasses of the tasty alcohol, finally remembering how much he hates airplanes. He could recall the previous year when glee club had gone to New York for Nationals, how he'd clung very embarrassingly to Mercedes and Finn's arms the whole time, chanting about how they were going to crash and that he absolutely hated flying. That he wanted his dad.

Pale as a sheet Kurt closes his eyes and bores his fingers into the armrests beside him, willing Sebastian to somehow forget he's there with him and will fall asleep or _something_ , just so he wouldn't notice how deathly afraid Kurt is.

“Kurt?” Fuck, there went that possibility.

“I'm okay, I'm o-okay,” he whispers quietly, pressing his lips together and silencing the whimper about to rise in his throat as the plane begins to roll forward.

“You're not,” Sebastian states, and Kurt knows it's obvious how scared he is. He knows that, but he can't stop denying it, can't let Sebastian see him like this.

“Yeah, I am,” he says a little more clearly, emphasizing on the 'little' part because he's just about as inaudible as earlier. He clears his throat and tries to flash his boyfriend a smile, however shaky. “Really, I'm fine.”

“No Kurt, you're really not. You're really pale, and that's saying something. For fuck's sake, you're shivering in your seat!” Sebastian shakes his head and unclasps his seat belt. “Scoot over babe.”

Then Sebastian's there; he's holding him and protecting him. Kurt knows he is no damsel in distress, that he doesn't need the knight in shining armor during his everyday life, but for now? This? This is wonderful. To feel so safe in an environment that he loathes, that he can't stand, that's so precious.

So he only burrows himself closer and feeds off his boyfriend's reassuring confidence that things will be okay, tries to calm his heart by matching his heartbeat to Sebastian's. He let's himself be comforted as they rush down the landing strip at a faster and faster speed.

The pictures in his head doesn't stop however; the one's carved into his brain of planes crashing in movies and documentaries, pictures of _this_ plane falling and burning just like those did. Pictures of panic, of disaster, of terror. Those pictures, dulled slightly from being held by Sebastian are rushing back to the forefront of his mind the second they rise up high in the air, and watches as the city shrinks quickly below them.

Kurt doesn't even know what he's doing when he lifts his head up to smash his lips together with Sebastian's, doesn't notice the sharp breath of air his boyfriend takes in moments before Kurt plunges his own tongue into his mouth and tries to worm his way as close as possible. He doesn't notice how he claws at his boyfriend's back, at his neck, doesn't notice how he's grabbing Sebastian's hair and mashes their faces closer together.

He does however notice when Sebastian grips his wrists and forcefully parts them. He definitely notices the panic filling him when he can't touch his boyfriend. He _absolutely_ notices how shocked Sebastian is looking at him, how dark his eyes are, how _wild_ Kurt himself is looking reflected in his boyfriend's lust-filled eyes.

“P-please,” he begs brokenly. He doesn't know for what, or why, just that Sebastian can give him what he craves, what he desperately needs to calm down.

He can see when the comprehension fills his boyfriend's green eyes, can see how they softens. Moments after there's a palm cupping his jaw, a thumb stroking gently over his tear-streaked cheek, a soft 'sure' whispered into his skin before he's being kissed once more. Only this time more languidly, more gently, more lovingly.

His wrists are gripped once more, fingers pressing into his veins there and making him shiver from how much it makes him feel like he _belongs_ to Sebastian. It's true though; he belongs to Sebastian, just as much as Sebastian belongs to him, and it's just what he needs right now for his heart to stop racing so frantically.

Like always, even when he himself doesn't even know what he needs, Sebastian will, and he will gladly give it to Kurt.

“Thank you,” he murmurs in between deep kisses, thankful for the distraction Sebastian is providing him, thankful for the grounding he's supplying Kurt with at the moment. “Thank you.”

“No worries babe,” Sebastian grunts, pushing him back into the seat, and Kurt gasps from how good it feels to be completely covered by this extraordinary boy of his. “Really, it's my pleasure. Now, what do you want, now that you seem to be able to actually ask for it.”

Kurt thinks about it as he continues kissing Sebastian. What does he want? He wants whatever his boyfriend wants – but that's a given, and also not what his boyfriend asked for. Kurt guesses he wants to forget where he is, he supposes he wants to be reminded that he's Sebastian's – especially because of how traumatic this day has grown to become.

“I want you,” is the answer he settles with, because it's the closest he can come to the tumult of thoughts racing through his messy mind.

“I know that,” Sebastian teases, licking behind his teeth swiftly, something that always makes him loose his breath. “But what do you want specifically?”

“I don't know,” Kurt moans desperately, trying to rut up against his boyfriend above him. “Everything. Anything.”

“What do you want Kurt?” Sebastian asks again, forcing their bodies apart and making Kurt whine from the loss.

“You, I want you,” he pleads.

“What do you want?” Sebastian asks, making Kurt stare straight into his green eyes with his own that are blown wide with desperation and primal lust.

“Gah!” he groans writhing beneath his boyfriend's strong hold, trying to think of anything besides 'please'. “Please!”

“Kurt! What. Do. You. Want?”

“You,” he finally gasps. “In me, on me, fucking me, anything, please. _Please_!”

“Good boy,” Sebastian praises, and it feels so good, like a weight has been lifted. He's a _good boy_. That's the only thing that matters, that he's made his boyfriend proud of him, that he's being good. “Take off you're clothes Kurt, and lean over that table,” Sebastian points.

Kurt does as he's been told, almost ripping his clothes off in his need to get them off, throwing them somewhere when he does, and he has no idea where they land. It doesn't even matter, the only thing that does is the way his boyfriend's eyes gleam as they watch him, the way those eyes rake over his every bared little piece of skin. Every glance thrown his way making him preen and purr like a delighted pussy-cat.

When every tiny article of clothing is removed Kurt is quick to do as Sebastian had said and lays his torso down on the table, his knees resting against the carpeted floor below him. His face is flat against the cool material of the table, and it lessens the fog in his mind enough so he can take in how flushed his boyfriend is already looking. Like he's already come. Twice.

If that isn't enough to make Kurt gleam with pride nothing is.

And he does smile; Kurt smiles the whole time Sebastian just watches him from afar, smiles as his boyfriend finally realizes how long he's stood there, smiles as he watches said boyfriend hurriedly finding his bag and rifling through it. He smiles all until he can feel his boyfriend kneeling there behind him, instead changing the wide smile into an unabashed moan when he can feel the hot hand dragging down his naked spine. He trembles feeling the fingertips trailing over every single bone, carving patterns into his pale flesh as they travel down, down, down. Shudders as they scrape over the globe of his ass, as they dig in and spreads him apart.

He _howls_ when he feels the wet tongue lapping up his crack unexpectedly. It wasn't something he'd expected, it wasn't something they'd ever tried before, and why that is deludes Kurt, when that single little lick had made him feel so much.

His fingers grapple for something to earth him, something to keep him steady as he feels like floating away as Sebastian just keeps licking the pleads and moans right out of him. Searches for leverage as he feels that nimble tongue teasing his rim, and at last finds the end of the table when that tongue breaches him, just slightly, but still.

He holds on there tight, his knuckles whitening with how hard he's gripping the table, his jaw hurting from how he clenches his teeth together. He can practically hear how they grind together, that's how much pressure there are on his precious little teeth.

Smack!

“Stop that,” Sebastian says, smacking his cheek lightly with his palm. “Stop biting your teeth together, you'll hurt yourself. Besides, I wanna hear you,” he adds with a leer as he leans down to bite the spot he hit moments earlier. 

Kurt screams from the spark shooting through his body. He's always loved getting bitten, and his boyfriend knew it, the bastard.

There's fingers jabbing at his entrance now as well when Sebastian finally get's back to rimming him. Luckily they're slick, otherwise it'd hurt when two of them are shoved into him at once, but instead the only thing Kurt feels is how good it is. The steady pressure against him, _in him_ , as well as that teasing tongue playing with his ass – and his hole in particular – it's all amazing, it's all absolutely glorious.

His back arches as the fingers almost graze that marvelous spot inside him; so impossibly close that Kurt keens from just the proximity of it being pleasured. He knows that it won't however – not until Sebastian is in him completely, if he even will. He might just decide to tease him like this until he can't be bothered anymore, might as well just use Kurt's mouth to get off, then maybe rub Kurt off with his hand if he doesn't come from just blowing Sebastian. 

It's happened before; Kurt coming without any stimulation whatsoever as he's been on his knees before Sebastian, sucking him deep into his mouth. It's because of how much Kurt loves being like that – how much he likes being on his knees, pleasing his boyfriend. It's because of that heavy weight in his mouth, that salty yet musky and sweet taste in his mouth, it's because of how his mouth needs to stretch so wide to be able to take him in completely. It's because how Sebastian looks at him while Kurt blows him – those eyes that looks at him with a mixture of love and raw lust.

It's a miracle it hasn't made him come more times than it already has to be honest.

Kurt isn't sure how long he stays there bent over the table; has no idea how many minutes it took before that third finger was entering, no idea how long it took until the fourth finger began to stretch him, no idea for how long that tongue was lapping over his most private part. It was a long time, he knows, it was long enough for him to manage to plead himself silent. Long enough to make him just give up and lie there with a raging and painful arousal between his legs, accepting whatever treatment Sebastian wanted him to have.

He whines brokenly even so when the fingers leave him, hating how empty he suddenly feels, reaching behind himself to keep them in, to make him feel full again as his muscles clench around nothing. His throat feels raw as he pleads for Sebastian to get back inside, to just please get back inside, only to be met by a wicked yet loving smirk.

He knows, he knows that Sebastian will take care of him, but it doesn't lessen the desperation nevertheless.

“Come on, babe, get up. I want you to ride me,” Sebastian tells him, pulling him back up by the arm, and Kurt is glad for that, because his legs are weak and wobbly as he straightens up. There is no way Kurt would have been able to stand on his own at that moment, not that he needs it for long, because soon enough he's straddling his boyfriend in one of the gigantic seats, his boyfriend's dick being fed into him inch by inch.

He sighs when he's filled to the brim; he's missed how good it felt, how greatly it is to be stuffed like this, with his Sebastian looking him deeply into the eyes as he's being lifted and dropped back down, moans spilling out of him with little restraint.

Kurt's arms are thrown around Sebastian's neck, his fingers tightly knit into the brown locks at the back of his head as he brings their lips together. Anything to stifle those loud moans really.

Sebastian's hands are digging into his hips, most likely leaving fingertip bruises with how tightly he's being gripped, but it only adds to the pleasure tumbling through Kurt's already wrecked body. 

He can feel the way Sebastian is just using his gaping wide hole, just shoving himself in there without needing to even think and consider about Kurt. Because Kurt is stretched so wide that even the thickest part of Sebastian is too small to really hurt. Instead it just feels good. It just feels great. And especially so with the way Sebastian seems to be focused to drill every miniscule thrust straight against his prostate, just digging his cock against it and pushing Kurt so much closer to his impending orgasm.

“Come Kurt,” Sebastian tells him, digging his teeth into his neck and making him scream from the pleasure racking through him. “Come on Kurt, come.”

And Kurt does. There isn't even a choice about that, not with the way Sebastian is playing him, not with the onslaught of different touches to his entire body – all from the sharp teeth against his sensitive neck to the way their thighs slap together whenever he's being wholly filled. All of that and more shoves him dick first over the edge, and he doesn't even need to have his dick touched to have his vision blurring as well as his hearing as he wails, shooting thick, white cum between them.

Then everything goes black.

*

When Kurt wakes up they're standing still. The plane is no longer in the air, and apparently hasn't been for the past twenty minutes.

Sebastian had been worried – of course he had, Kurt had passed out from having a fucking orgasm – but is so, so relieved and grateful that Kurt had finally come to. 

This time it's Kurt's turn to ground his boyfriend. His time to let Sebastian know that everything's all right, that nothing bad has happened. It was just Sebastian who made him come so fucking hard he blacked out.

Sebastian smiles weakly at that, before quietly admitting how scared he'd been. How close he'd been to just calling Kurt's father, or the ambulance, or anyone, because he'd been so scared that he'd done something wrong.

Kurt assures him though that everything is good, that they're both okay and well, that nobody is hurt. He reminds the younger boy that he loves him, and that he's sorry for scaring him so badly. He hugs him and cuddles him close, assuring him with his body that he's there and alive. That he's still Sebastian's. That everything will be just fine.

It's long after they've both quietened that Kurt brings up the thing that's been bugging him ever since he woke up.

“Bas?” he asks, only receiving a gentle hum in return where Sebastian's is pressed close against his chest. “Why am I wearing clothes?”


End file.
